Page 68 of Bad Blood

She chuckles into her hand. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Her hazel eyes rove over me, and she fiddles with the gold ring on her pinkie finger. “It’s from somewhere else, though, nothing to do with Liam. I’m usually the one who . . . hey, did you redirect the conversation? What the hell?”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “Me? Never.”

“That’s not fair.” She smacks my arm, twisting her lips into a smirk.

C’est la vie, Dr. Fields.

“I model,” I whisper as I lean closer to her ear.

“No.” She ignores my proximity as the line ahead of us moves forward. She cocks her head to the side, no longer entranced by me, more interested in figuring out why I look familiar. Maybe Instagram? No, she doesn’t seem the type. I order two teas, handing her a cup and taking the other as I add an egg drop soup to our order of sushi.

She nibbles on the end of her straw and pulls it free from the wrapper before slipping it into the lid, gulping while lost in thought. “Is that for Liam?”

Most things running through my mind stop when his name rolls off her tongue.

Most.

Not all.

Not the way her lips part before she exhales and reconsiders what she’s about to say.

Or the way she fidgets with the ring on her pinkie finger.

And most definitely not the way pity fills her eyes moments before she changes the direction of our conversation.

I nod, averting my gaze.

“How are you doing with everything?”

“Fine.”

“Fine, as in you have a grip on everything? Or fine, as in leave you the hell alone?”

I grin, amazed at how she reads the mood with ease. “I’d never be rude enough to tell you to leave me the hell alone, but that’s actually a great idea.”

She analyzes me with a crease between her brows. “If you ever want to talk, I’m available.”

“Liam and I are gonna be fine. Did you forget he has the best doctor in the nation, and I’m about to have her number on speed dial?”

She rolls her eyes again, but the smile on her lips stays put. She didn’t say no. This could work in my favor.

My phone buzzes. I know who it is before I pull it from my pocket. “Liam,” I say, covering the mouthpiece with my hand, “speak of the devil.”

“And he shall appear.” Liam finishes my sentence with one of his favorite quotes from The Dark Knight Rises.

Dr. Fields smiles as she points over her shoulder and walks in the opposite direction, whispering, “I’m gonna go.”

I hold up a finger, asking her to wait. “Liam, give me a sec.”

“Did you get lost?” he asks.

She pauses a couple of steps away, but it looks like she’s ready to bolt.

“No. I’ll be home in a while. Need something else?”

“Nah. What’s taking so long?”

“I’ll fill you in when I get home.”

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